HOW TO KISS AN OPEN MIC

I had words to speak
until the river took my tongue
away.

I hid in the undertow.
I cut myself for the first time
& it felt like yellow
i.                   light
ii.           fever
iii.      bile.

I had my words to speak
hid my words to speak
(in my throat).

Riverbed runs under my skin;
my tongue runs
under my breath.

Clear your head &
never speak.
Sit & breathe at
never’s peak.

If you are silent,
at least you are not
a liar.

Drink water
&
never speak.

—————

FAMILY LANGUAGE

The feeling is sticky like tar –
inexplicable,
yet an answer in itself.
Being disowned while being
kept.

In dreams, you are battery powered
& this same bed is a shipwreck.

Son is interpreted as hostage.
The ties bind and bind – even
the hands.

You cannot afford new eyes.
Brother is not comrade.
Brother is property, is I do
as I please, say nothing today.

You have never known home.

It is not a question of translation
when you mispronounce shelter as
cage.

—————

Poems: © Logan February

Image: Pixabay.com remixed